


Orders

by brighteye



Series: The Rise and The Fall [9]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, mercykill - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11228823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brighteye/pseuds/brighteye
Summary: Angela finally heads out on her first mission as a combat medic.





	Orders

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I'm back - and I did a thing guys. You'll know what I mean.
> 
> Thank you, Kokonl, Huntershivers, and Silvermastermind, for your reviews on Clearance, as well as the 11 who gave me kudos! I appreciate your time!
> 
> Please, enjoy this next installment!

It had been nearly three months, and the only time she had left was to give the Blackwatch Commander a checkup. While it hadn’t _quite_ been a promise, she had told Gabriel that she would have him at her back when she went into the field and she meant to stand by that. He’d only gone out once in that time – but it was for a near month-long mission, and she couldn’t afford to be gone for such a long period of time. Then again, it wasn’t that unsurprising, seeing how he was a Commander and couldn’t be expected to go on most missions.

Instead, she’d dedicated her time to her research. She was working on expanding on biotic limbs, specifically how much of a body could be replaced. It was all theoretical for now – partially because she didn’t want to bring it to the others without a solid plan and partially because she was _not_ looking forward to what would be needed to test it.

When she wasn’t researching, she forced herself to practice in the gun range.

Angela stood in the range, pistol in hand and a pair of protective earmuffs. Before her was a target with the silhouette of a man, marked with target zones. She pointed the gun towards the upper left quadrant – the heart – released a breath, then squeezed the trigger.

A hole appeared in the target, significantly lower, but still within the silhouette – but nowhere near where a heart would be.

Angela blew out a breath. She knew she should spend more time here, but with duties assigned elsewhere it just never seemed to be that important – and then she was terribly disappointed in her ability when she finally found the time to practice. It made no sense for her to be disappointed, because even she knew that for any skill you needed to practice – often and regularly. Still, her lack of progress was disheartening.

She pointed the gun again. Fired. Another bullet too low, but it was still within the target. Fired. Too low, and now too far to the left.

A hand on her shoulder startled her, and she jumped, whirling. A second hand grabbed her gun hand, pushing both down and away before she hurt herself – or the woman at her shoulder. Once she relaxed, Ana let go of both, and Angela set the gun on the table set between her and the target before sliding off the earmuffs.

“Ana! What are you doing here?” She asked. With Jack out on a mission, she’d expected Ana to practically live in the command room until his return.

“A little birdie told me you were down here. I thought I’d see how you were doing.” Ana glanced between the blonde doctor and the target appraisingly. “Not doing so good?” Angela shook her head.

“You know I’m not.” All three of her friends were kept apprised of her combat and survival skills, because they were the ones sending her into combat. Ana nodded.

“You’re right; I know.” Ana hit a button on the table, swapping the target for a new one, before gesturing to the gun. “Reload it.” Angela turned obediently back to the gun, sliding her earmuffs up and pulling the weapon into her hands and refilling the ammunition. “Aim for the head.” Angela pulled the gun up, pointing it at the target. “Fire.”

They went through ten shots, all of them missing the marks Ana described.

“You’re hesitating.” Ana told her, once the gun was on the table. “At least, that’s your biggest problem.” Ana grabbed the gun, pointing it in demonstration. “Your arms relax and your aim drops.” The barrel of the gun dipped dramatically in her hands. “Point and keep your hands still – you’re a doctor, so we both know you are capable.” Angela nodded, reaching for the gun to reload it again.

She was in the range for another hour with Ana before she called it quits. Her aim wasn’t amazing – she’d never have enough time to dedicate for that – but it was markedly better than before, and she only needed to be capable of stopping an enemy, not killing them. A bullet, generally anywhere, would make certain of that.

“Good work, Angela.” Ana told her, clapping her on the shoulder once more. The doctor smiled at the older woman in thanks. “We’ll make a marksman out of you yet.” Angela laughed.

“I certainly hope not.” She admitted. Ana draped one arm over her shoulders as they walked out.

“You haven’t signed up for any missions.” The woman said as they moved down the hall together, heading towards the basement level that the doctor practically lived on. “After all your fighting and training, too.” The older woman glanced over at Angela’s face, one eyebrow raised. “I wonder why that is.”

“I’ve been busy lately.” Angela demurred carefully. While what she’d promised to Gabriel wasn’t a secret – not really – she found herself loathe to talk about it with the other two. At best she would be at the mercy of endless teasing and at worst they would read deeper into the promise than necessary.

“I should be available for one soon, though. I’m just tying up a few loose ends.” A statement that was a bold-faced lie. Seeing how none of her researchers were working with her _and_ Angela had been keeping her notes in German – a language she was pretty confident none of the others could speak – Ana would never know, and what Ana didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Is that so?” Ana asked, nodding. “That’s good. I’ll make sure that we keep you in mind, then.” Angela smiled over at the woman.

“I’d appreciate that, Ana.” She was forced to say, even as she knew that there was a decent chance she’d still be remaining home.

\---

“Can I ask you a question?” She asked when Gabriel strolled into her office around dinnertime.

“Yeah, what’s up?” He said, standing in the doorway and waiting while she dutifully put aside her pen and paper. She leaned back in her chair to look up at him, making no move to rise. After a moment, he stepped in and closed the door, leaning his back against it.

“Are you purposefully avoiding going on missions?” Angela demanded; he looked surprised at her question and made no indication that he was planning to answer. “It’s been _three months_ since I managed to convince the three of you to let me on missions, since I _promised_ to stay in Zürich if you weren’t on the mission with me” Her arms crossed as she glared pointedly at him. “Either you’re avoiding missions or it’s something else.” She raised an eyebrow instead of asking a second time.

“I’m not _avoiding_ missions, Angela.” He told her, sighing. “I haven’t been needed on any missions, so I’ve been here” He gave her a look in return. “What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s not like you aren’t busy here.”

“I saw Ana today, and she was _curious_ as to why I had abstained from missions, seeing how hard I fought to get approved for them. I wouldn’t put it past you to avoid missions just to keep me safe.” He laughed ruefully.

“I _had_ considered doing just that.” If looks could kill, he’d probably be dead. “But I can’t afford to sit on the sidelines, so no chance there.” He shook his head and met her glare unapologetically. “You’ll have your chance, Angela, whether I like it or not.” She sighed – she was a doctor; she _exuded_ patience, but three months was a rather long time to wait.

“Alright, Gabriel. I believe you.” She said after a long moment, rising. He shifted, moving away from the door so they could leave.

“So, you saw Ana today?” He asked conversationally, leading her towards the elevator so they could go eat.

“I was practicing in the range.” She admitted. “She gave me a couple of pointers.” She glanced towards him mischievously. “They helped better than yours did.”

“Just because you’re a _terrible_ student doesn’t mean that my advice wasn’t good.” He teased her, pressing the call elevator button. She gaped at him, before huffing.

“I have it on _excellent_ authority that I’m a great student.” Angela told him primly. “You’re just an awful teacher.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve trained plenty of agents.” He informed her as the doors opened.

“It’s a wonder that I haven’t needed to patch more of them up, then.” She replied, and then laughed at the indignant look on his face.

\---

Gabriel finally accepted another mission two weeks later. They were heading to Venezuela; a factory had been captured by Talon. While it wasn’t an Overwatch facility, it was a major biotic limb manufacturer in South America. It wasn’t a large strike team – just her, Gabriel, and four others – but the estimated force occupying the facility didn’t rate a larger team.

The flight was going to be a long one – unsurprising, considering the distance to South America from Switzerland – so it was unfortunate that she couldn’t bring any of her research along with her, just in case it was lost and fell into the wrong hands. Instead, she was forced to bring along a book – or be bored for the entire flight.

She’d boarded, the Valkyrie suit carefully packed away – she wasn’t going to wear it for the thirteen and a half hours it would take for them to get there, though she would have to change before they arrived. She was still dressed the part of a combat medic just in case, with all the tools necessary – including her pistol – attached to the belt she wasn’t currently wearing. She had been one of the last to arrive – there were last minute instructions to give to Gloria and her research teams – but they should be leaving shortly. They were just waiting on Gabriel to arrive.

“Move over.” Angela glanced up from what she was reading to see Gabriel standing in the aisle next to her. She glanced around the plane – certainly it wasn’t terribly large, but there was plenty of space that wouldn’t require her to move. Still, she obliged him and shifted seats so he could have the one she vacated.

“Ready?” He asked her as the plane began preparations for takeoff.

“If I didn’t have everything I needed, do you think I’d have gotten on the plane?” She asked, willfully misunderstanding his question. He shot her an exasperated look.

“I meant for your first mission.” She raised an eyebrow. “First _sanctioned_ mission.” He amended.

“Of course I’m ready.” Angela replied easily. “It’s not going to be anything like my _actual_ first mission, so I’m sure I’ll do fine.”

“Don’t get too cocky.” He warned. “There’s every chance that this mission goes south.” He leaned back in his seat. “Don’t forget about Naples – and what brought them to your infirmary.” She bit her lip to keep from retorting, because the advice _was_ sound.

“I’ll be careful.” She murmured.

“You’re damn right you will be.” He retorted, and she glanced sidelong at him before looking back down at the journal she’d been reading.

“What are you reading?” He asked, interrupting her a few minutes later once the plane leveled out. She closed her eyes momentarily with a sigh – she wasn’t going to get anything done – and glanced back up at him.

“A medical journal. It has several articles and case reports on the use of biotic limbs that I’m interested in.” She had high hopes for this particular journal; she was hoping that it would have information that would greatly improve her own research.

“Seriously?” His voice was teasing, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, _seriously_. I couldn’t bring my research notes along – understandably – so I brought study material. It’s for my research.” She gave him another _look_. “You know, that other thing I do that _isn’t_ fixing you up.”

“I’m vaguely familiar with the concept, yes,” Gabriel replied, “seeing how I drag you away from it most nights.” She smothered a laugh, but turned back to her journal; this time, he let her.

Many hours later, she was still engrossed in her journal. The flight had been rather uneventful – the other soldiers had kept mostly to themselves two rows back, and Gabriel had been reading… something. Angela hadn’t asked what. Gabriel nudged her gently, and she glanced up briefly.

“You need to get some sleep.” He whispered. She hadn’t realized that it had gotten quiet – or darker – within the plane. The others were probably asleep – like she would be, were she actually one for keeping normal sleeping patterns.

“I can’t.” She whispered back, turning to the next page idly.

“What do you mean, you _can’t_? You need to be rested, so you _have_ to.” He snapped back at her. She glanced up at him, meeting his intensity with anxiety.

“There’s too many people; I don’t need _everyone_ knowing I have nightmares – and what comes after.” She whispered back, her words barely loud enough to reach his ears, even close as he was. His eyes widen and his face gentles.

Angela couldn’t afford for anyone to catch her so vulnerable, couldn’t risk losing the respect she had gained. She’s _Dr. Ziegler_ , cool and collected and _absolutely_ in charge, because at the end of the day it’s her calls that will result in life and death, and she can’t have anyone doubt her for even a _single_ second. They can’t think that she has a heart, that she cares absolutely _too much_ , that every death – under her hands or halfway across the globe – cuts another piece of her soul away.

And, seeing how she was going on her _first_ actual, sanctioned mission – which absolutely _terrified_ her even as she needed to go – she knew that there would be nightmares. She would dream about Gabriel getting shot again – that was what she was going into, after all, shooting and _death_ – and shooting Jack and watching Huang die because the mission had gone sour.

“I’ll be right here, Angela.” Gabriel whispered back. “I’ll wake you up, first sign of a nightmare.” She shook her head.

“You need to sleep too – almost more than I do. You’re the _Commander_ , you’re in charge of this merry little expedition. You have to be well rested.” She insisted, turning his own logic against him.

“Seeing how it’s _your_ job to keep us alive, you take precedence. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you if I get tired, alright?” She sighed. It wasn’t alright, but she knew he was right; she needed to sleep, because they’d probably be running straight into combat once they landed. She couldn’t afford an error due to exhaustion, not when it was something so easily remedied.

“You promise you’ll wake me?” Angela asked, even as she started to put the journal away.

“Of course I will.” He assured her, and she nodded, leaning back into her seat that wasn’t really comfortable and didn’t give, not even a _little_ , to close her eyes. She felt his eyes on her, and she fought not to squirm or peek; instead, she forced herself to blank her mind so that she could _attempt_ to sleep.

 ---

“Wake up, Angela.” His voice, which rumbled strangely in her ear, was accompanied by a sharp shake of her knee. Her eyes blinked open, confused momentarily at where she was. There was a loud humming noise and she was pressed against something warm and soft. She blinked, before registering who had spoken.

“Gabriel?” She murmured sleepily, blinking slowly, remembering that she was on a plane, that there were others around them, that he’d _promised_ to wake her up – and here she was, waking up. Still, that didn’t explain what she was leaned against. Carefully, she turned her head, to find that she’d practically buried herself against his side. Flushing a deep scarlet, she pulled away sharply – displacing the arm that had been carefully placed over her shoulders. “What--?” the word escaped her, much too loudly for the confined space.

“Christ, Angela, you’re fine; calm down before you wake the whole damn plane.” Gabriel said quickly, glancing away before she could tell if he was _also_ blushing, putting up a hand before she could lay into him. “You fell asleep, and then decided I made a good pillow.” He shrugged sheepishly. “’I didn’t want to wake you, so I left you alone.” He hesitated briefly before continuing. “Okay, I _did_ move my arm, but only because you were putting it to sleep.”

“You should have woken me.” She insisted, terribly embarrassed.

“And wake you when you were _actually_ sleeping for once? Never.” His voice was teasing, but when she glanced towards him she saw that he was still sheepishly looking anywhere but at her. “Besides, you were _asleep_ , Angela. It’s fine.” He glanced over at her momentarily, before yawning.

“I woke you because I need to sleep; far as I can tell you didn’t have a nightmare.” He told her, and she nodded gratefully. Her anxiety about the others around her may have suppressed the nightmares – for now – but she doubted it would last.

“Go to sleep, Gabriel.” She whispered, and he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. “I’ll wake you if anything exciting happens.”

Angela leaned down to grab the journal, but found the she couldn’t concentrate; instead, she found herself watching the man sleeping next to her.

\--- 

They had managed to get inside the factory, but they were under fire. Their team had been separated – and not by choice; Gabriel had strictly ordered them to stay together, but it just wasn’t possible when you considered the lack of cover in the face of enemy guns. Angela was currently crouched inside a doorway behind one of their agents – she wasn’t certain, but his name _might_ be Ramirez – while he was firing at the enemy on the catwalk above them. _Most_ of the enemy was above them, which made the lack of cover that much worse.

“Medic! Lewis is down!” The call came over the comms unit. Angela glanced out of her position, only to jerk back to avoid getting shot. Her hand reached up.

“What’s your location?” She demanded, glancing up at the man shooting in front of her. His eyes were focused above – there was still an enemy up there, it seemed.

“He’s under the conveyor belts on the left side.” Angela bit her lip, thinking; she was holed up in this room that – she glanced around, ignoring the handful of workers cowering at the back of the room – was a death trap without any secondary exit, and she needed to get across the entire floor to reach him.

“We’re under fire on the right side, shooter above.” She reported, glancing out again when the gunfire ceased for a moment. If she could spot another agent she could fly out, but it would cause her to abandon the man she was currently paired with – not that she was doing him any good, but it would definitely make her feel terrible. “Can anyone clear a path?”

“Ramirez and I will create a distraction, doctor.” Gabriel’s voice responded. She glanced over at the man covering her again; guess his name wasn’t Ramirez. “You two get out as soon as their attention shifts; it won’t last long.”

“Roger, Commander.” Both she and the now-unnamed man at her right responded.

“We’re going to make a break for that machine there,” her current guardian told her, pointing. Angela glanced back at the people in the room.

“Stay back, and get the door shut when we’re gone.” Angela ordered them; with the gunmen above them and injured across the room, there wasn’t much they could do for them at this point. If they stayed back, they shouldn’t get injured or recaptured.

Gunfire lit up the main room. “Go!” The two of them sprinted for their target, eyes peeled for a shooter that might have them in their sights. To their right – and above, always above it seemed – Angela spotted an enemy agent raise their gun.

“Get down!” She shoved the man forward with one hand before throwing herself to the side, bullets filling the space they’d just occupied. Her heart was hammering – that was nearly the two of them, she was _not_ cut out for this – but she got back on her feet and got behind the machine that had been their target. Moments later her partner was at her side again, clutching his gun.

From this position she could see Gabriel and what could only be Ramirez – how did she mistake the two men, they looked _nothing_ alike – ducking into cover. At the far side, where the injured Lewis was, she saw movement – probably, _hopefully_ , one of their own protecting him.

“I’m going to change positions,” she quietly told the man hiding with her. “Watch out for yourself, alright?” He looked at her quizzically – _all_ of the agents on this mission knew she was barely capable of protecting herself – but before he could speak, her hand was on her comm unit. “Commander, I need a clear visual on your position.”

“Give me a sec, doc; I’m a _little_ busy.” His reply came in a few moments later. At her side, the man shot up at the enemy – a pained cry indicated that some of his bullets hit their mark. There shouldn’t be _too_ many more left, but until they were certain it was safe – for them and the remaining hostages that were upstairs.

Most of the hostages had been recovered, funneling out through side rooms that they had cleared – but there were still many in the building. Some had been recovered but were still forced to remain inside due to the violence – like the ones in the room she’d just recently vacated with her partner – but there were still many upstairs with the Talon operatives. It was only a matter of time before the enemy dragged them out – as shields or for ransom.

“Now, doc!” Staff in hand, Angela focused her gaze on the man who had rose from cover for a brief moment, pushing the gear to jump to his position. She burst out of cover, the gear dragging her along an invisible tether towards him. She was forced to stop a little more than halfway – he had to duck into cover, which forced the tether to drag her into some workstations before she canceled it. Angela crouched behind the workstation as bullets buried themselves in it. They’d spotted her – not surprising, seeing how big of a target the movement made her.

As soon as Angela spotted Gabriel, she jumped out of her position to rush to his, regardless of the bullets still sporadically firing towards her; for her trouble, a bullet buried itself into the back of the suit she was wearing – it didn’t pierce the suit, fortunately, but it still would leave a sizeable bruise. She let the momentum drag her into a slide on the ground, shielding herself from the bullets that were still peppering his – and Ramirez’s – position.

“Damn it, Ziegler.” Gabriel snarled at her as she crouched behind the two men. “Don’t be so damn reckless.” He looked her over, but he saw that she wasn’t bleeding; she realized he must have seen the shooter aiming at her and made sure he didn’t see the bullet still lodged in the suit. She made a sound of affirmation without _actually_ agreeing; like he said months ago, she’d take risks to help the wounded that he wouldn’t.

“What’s the name of the guy with Lewis?” She asked as they sat hidden on the killing floor. Gabriel glared at her – he _knew_ what she was planning to do, and he could stop her, but they both knew he wouldn’t, not when the danger was outweighed by the aid she could provide.

“That’s Cooper; you left Robinson.” Ah, both of their names started with R – not that it was any excuse for her to have mistaken them. Angela nodded at the information, and Gabriel peered out in their direction.

“Update on Lewis’ condition?” Angela whispered into the comm.

“I’m bleeding pretty bad, doc.” A new voice – presumably Lewis – cut in. “Cooper’s covering me.”

“Cooper, I need a visual on you now; I’m with the Commander and Ramirez.” Angela ordered, looking in the vague direction that she knew they were in, watching for movement that signified the man she needed to reach.

“We’re on the left side, ma’am.” He reported, and she rolled her eyes.

“I need a _visual_ – with my eyes.” She clarified, as if the word “visual” wasn’t obvious enough. She kept her eyes focused away from the two men that were whispering plans at her side. The gunfire had slowed, which led Angela to assume they were waiting for a better target, they were regrouping for a better attack, or they were getting the hostages out.

None of those options were good for them, but they couldn’t dwell on it.

“Cover me, Commander.” She interrupted, when she spotted agent Cooper. Before he could say anything, she’d darted to the side – for a better, more clear path – and started her jump.

It was impossible to move evasively when you were being dragged in a straight line, and since the enemy had learned of her ability with the last two jumps, it was unsurprising when she came under fire shortly after erupting from her cover. She glanced around sharply, looking for the person shooting at her, even as she heard suppressive fire coming from Gabriel’s position.

She landed on her feet just before Cooper, who was watching her wide-eyed, and she shoved them back under cover as bullets followed her. Though the trip had felt like it had taken hours – she supposed that being shot at might skew ones’ sense of time – it was only a minute or two since she had left Robinson.

“Where is he?” She asked; there were plenty of conveyor belts around them. Cooper pointed, and she quickly darted towards his position, trying to avoid getting shot. She crawled under the conveyor belt with him, stomach flat to the floor to accommodate the wings – there wasn’t a lot of space here for her to work with – and examined his wound.

He’d been shot in the leg, and judging by the holes in both sides it had passed through cleanly – which made her job that much easier. Quickly – and awkwardly – she pointed the staff at his body and press the trigger. The area around them lit up slightly with yellow, and Angela briefly hoped it wouldn’t make them a bigger target, and the flesh began to knit together quickly. Not even ten minutes later his leg was patched up.

“Stay under cover – you can’t afford to lose much more blood.” She ordered the man, who nodded, before carefully wiggling back out from under the belt. Once she was out – and under proper cover – she glanced around, trying to take stock.

She spotted Gabriel and Ramirez making their way up the steps, towards where Talon had holed up. The enemy had seemed to pull back, so it seemed that Gabriel had decided to take the fight to them She spotted Robinson moving alone, getting the hostages they’d been trapped with out of the building during the lull in fighting. Cooper appeared at her shoulder.

“Commander wants the three of us to take the stairs,” he pointed towards the ones in question, since there were three different sets, “and meet up with him.” Angela nodded, gesturing for the men to lead. She wasn’t a fighter and would be worthless leading the way.

It didn’t take them long to reach the top of the stairs, which – aside from the Overwatch agents – was empty except for two dead bodies. There was one room between them and the other two; Cooper ducked inside to check it briefly before backing out, declaring it cleared. Lewis took point and Angela fell in behind Cooper, the three of them carefully approaching the other two. There was one last door, which they assumed the enemy was hidden behind.

“Ziegler, you stay back. There should only be two left – a quick fight; we just have to find them.” Angela nodded, keeping herself to the back of the group. “Cooper, Lewis, you’ll go right; Ramirez and I will go left.” The orders were hushed, so close to the door that held their enemies. “Avoid hitting the civilians, got it?”

Then they were bursting through the door that was, surprisingly, not barricaded. Angela stayed outside the room shoulder pressed against one wall as she – extremely cautiously – peeked around to peer inside. She saw civilians – several of them, pressed against the back of the room – but there was no gunfire, no fighting.

“What’s goi--” She began, when a footstep behind her had her turning, hand reaching for the pistol that was at her side. Her eyes registered two enemies as they pulled their triggers. There was nowhere for her to go but down – so she made a rush for the banister. If she could make it over she could drop down safely with her suit.

She didn’t even make it one step before they mowed her down. Her Valkyrie suit caught some of them – fulfilling its purpose – but at such close range it was nearly useless. She felt blood soak the front of her suit as she collapsed to her knees. However, even after being breached, her Valkyrie suit did its job. Except for the sharp, piercing pain of the bullets entering her, the suit managed to numb it to an acceptable level.

She lifted her hands, feeling like she was moving through wet sand – god it was like her nightmares – as she tried to press them to her wounds, to stop the bleeding. Her chest, once Overwatch blue, was now darkening with her blood. From this angle, she couldn’t tell how many times she was hit – how bad it was – but she knew that she needed surgery.

“Angela!” It could have been seconds or hours, but suddenly Gabriel was in her face. She hadn’t even heard the firefight around her, but he wouldn’t have put his guns down if it wasn’t safe so the enemy _had_ to be dead. She smiled blearily at the man at the man, knowing that the expression was wrong for the situation but incapable of anything else. She’d never seen him look so frantic – not even when he’d _begged_ her not to go into the field. Served her right for not listening.

“Did they pass through?” Angela asked him. He looked at her, confusion plain on his face. “The bullets, Gabriel.” She was past the point of decorum, of calling him his title, and seeing how she was filled with bullets she doubted he cared too much either. Gabriel shifted to look her over for exit wounds, before shaking his head.

“Pretty sure they’re still in there.” He told her gruffly, and she sighed. All that meant was that she couldn’t use her staff, which would solve all her problems.

“How’re the others?” She asked suddenly, as if she wasn’t slowly dying before him.

“They’re fine, we’re all fine. Transport should be here soon, and we’ll get you a doctor.” Angela nodded, trying to ignore the sudden vertigo that the movement caused. “Where are your bandages?” He asked, bringing her attention back to the wounds in her chest. She needed to carry some, because the staff wouldn’t work on all wounds – like the ones she had.

“My satchel.” He reached over and grabbed the bag at her hip. “You need to take the suit off.” She told him, licking her lips. She knew that once it came off, she’d feel every bit of the pain that was being suppressed. “Wrap the wounds tightly, pressure is important.” She ordered him. Hopefully, if he wrapped it too tightly, they’d get her to a doctor before any permanent damage was done – but she’d rather it be too tight than not tight enough.

“How do I take this damn thing off you?” He demanded, looking over the Valkyrie suit. She knew that, if necessary, he’d tear the thing to pieces to get it off her. Quickly, she instructed him through the straps and fasteners to take it off her.

Once it was disengaged, she gasped sharply against the incredible pain that rolled over her. Her eyes dropped down to her chest, and she saw three holes scattered across her body. Suddenly, she couldn’t control her breathing – this was happening to _her_ , she was shot, she was bleeding out, and _she_ was the medic with no one to care for _her_. Gabriel was right, she was going to die and it was all because of her stubbornness and pride.

“You’re going to be fine.” Gabriel murmured, trying to comfort her – but his words were nothing against the weight of her panic. “Angela, calm down. _Breathe_.” He gave her a sharp shake – one that, as a medical professional, she’d never recommend – that jarred her and she took a sharp, deep breath. “Stay with me, Angela.” He ordered. Angela nodded shakily.

Angela shut her eyes and focused on breathing. She felt Gabriel moving against her, pulling the bandages across her chest tightly to stem the bleeding.

It was an agony that seemed to last an eternity, made worse by Gabriel’s bandaging skills. Finally he finished, tying them off so they’d stay on her body. She looked down again, seeing the bandages already staining red due to the unrestrained bleeding, and shuddered.

“You’re going to be fine.” Gabriel insisted a second time.

“Commander, helicopter’s here.” Cooper’s voice suddenly sparked to life in her ear, startling her. She’d forgotten about the others.

“Roger. One of you come get the doctor’s gear.” Gabriel lifted Angela up into his arms, causing her to cry out with pain. “I know, I know. I’ve got you.” He murmured soothingly, but he didn’t pause, carrying her away from the bloody scene. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the pain each step sent arcing through her, and buried her face in his chest as tears streaked her cheeks.

Gabriel briefly passed her to another – she wasn’t sure who – so he could climb into the helicopter. She was handed back over, and then he was sitting carefully with her nestled in his lap. As soon they brought her gear, specifically her staff, to the helicopter, they headed for Watchpoint: Santa Marta in Colombia.

“Just hold on a little longer for me, Angela.” Gabriel murmured, bringing his lips close to her ear so she could hear him over the engine. It was only then, as they were in the air heading for her salvation, that she passed out.


End file.
